Hi all! This is my first fic for FFXV! I have been following the fandom for a few years, and only now I finally got into it! ...And I haven't played the game yet. Oops. If there are any lore inconsistencies or whatever, I am terribly sorry for that!
Prompto paused his game upon hearing the familiar buzzing of his phone on a nearby table. He placed the controller down before standing up from the floor of his home. Who could that be? He wasn't expecting a text message from anyone tonight. Perhaps Noct wanted to chat in order to get away from Ignis' nagging. Or maybe it was Iggy himself for some reason.
Or was it Gladio? Nah. It couldn't be him. Gladio was too busy doing his own thing to even stop and chat when they bumped into each other. It couldn't be Gladio, of all people, texting him out of the blue.
Then. Who was it?
Only one way to find out…
Dusting himself off, he walked towards the table and took his phone. He swiped the screen a few times until he reached the text messages app.
Well, what do you know? It was Gladio.
Hey blondie. I'd like to talk to you. Come meet me at Esterway Park.
Gladio wanted to talk to him? At this time of night? Why couldn't he just call him? Or text him now?
Well, it didn't matter. This was Gladio after all. Who Prompto definitely didn't have a crush on. Nope. He didn't. He and Gladio were friends, that was all.
Without another moment wasted, he grabbed his coat, put it on, and left the safety of his home. Towards Esterway Park.
It took him several minutes, but finally, he arrived at the park. Despite wearing his coat, Prompto shivered from the winter's cold bite. Each breath he exhaled, cold air left his nostrils. The park was void of life—not surprising considering how late it was. Prompto was glad of that—but it also left an uneasy feeling in his gut. He glanced around, searching for the man who asked him to come here.
He couldn't see Gladio. Where was he? Was he late? Did Prompto take such a long time getting here that Gladio left?
"Gladio?" Prompto called. "I'm here now."
Only his voice echoed around him in the darkness.
"Big guy?"
Still nothing.
Prompto groaned, shaking his head. "C'mon, big guy, this isn't funny! Where are you?"
For a few minutes, he called and called for the Prince's Shield. Unfortunately, he didn't see or hear the man he was looking for. With another groan of annoyance, Prompto dug through his coat pocket to take out his cell phone.
Perhaps Gladio forgot to meet him here? Or was he indeed late? He better call or text—
"I don't think so."
Without warning, a filthy hand clamped over his mouth. Prompto gasped, so surprised by this that he dropped his phone; the screen shattered upon impact to the cement ground. The moment he lost his grip on his phone, another hand grabbed his hand, roughly forcing it behind him.
Prompto cried out in pain, kicking out. He used his other free hand in an attempt to tug the hand away from his mouth. However, it was no use as he was dragged towards a white van he didn't notice parked near the entrance.
Prompto wasn't going to just sit here and let this man take him away; with all he could, he kicked, struggled, and screamed in an attempt to escape. However, no matter how much he tried, he couldn't get away from the man's tight grasp.
He was thrown into the back of the van, and Prompto's heart dropped when he saw three more men inside. When he tried to get up from the van floor, a wet cloth was shoved in his face, preventing him from breathing in air.
No no no no! This isn't happening!
To his dismay, the man holding the cloth to his face held him to his chest, preventing him from moving away. The sweet smell of the cloth hit his nostrils, but Prompto tried not to inhale it. If he kept struggling, then maybe, just maybe…!
"Stop squirming," a deep, gritty voice growled in his ear. "Be a good boy and take a deep breath."
NO!
Prompto screamed, his voice muffled by the cloth. He writhed and tugged, trying to get away to no avail. Each breath he took, his strength weakened.
Eventually, after a minute of struggling, his strength waned to the point of sleepiness. No matter how hard he fought to keep his eyes open, he closed his eyes and slipped into a deep, unwanted sleep.
When he woke up, Prompto was hit with the worst headache he ever had in his life. He groaned, as he slowly opened his eyes. His head throbbed and he let out another groan of pain. As he opened his eyes, he saw blurs of grey and black. He blinked in order to get rid of the blurriness, and within a few minutes, it went away.
He was in some sort of abandoned warehouse, the walls cracked and the floor filthy with dust and hardened rat droppings. To Prompto, this warehouse hadn't been used for many years.
Fuck. What happened? All he remembered was that Gladio sent him a text, asking him to meet him in Esterway Park. As he waited, a man—
It wasn't Gladio. This was all a trap.
He mentally kicked himself over his own stupidity. What was he thinking, going out at night after getting a phony text message from a stranger posing as Gladio? If he had brought one of his guns with him, he would have fought back. He would have been safe.
Prompto attempted to get up, only to realize that his hands were above his head. He froze before glancing up to see ropes holding his wrists to a pipe, the bindings so tight Prompto swore he lost circulation. His feet were together in front of him, also tied tightly.
Oh no.
He put two and two together. He was kidnapped and held captive somewhere. But why? Why did they want him? He didn't have any money. He didn't have anything the kidnappers would want from him.
"You're awake."
Prompto gasped softly, turning his head to the left to see four men approaching him. They all held guns, all of them loaded and ready to shoot down Prompto if they so pleased.
"Wh-who are you?" Prompto asked, his voice cracking somewhat in fear. Dammit. He shouldn't show these guys any fear. But he couldn't help it.
"Doesn't matter who we are," one man—the leader, Prompto guessed—grunted. "What matters is that we're after someone, and you're going to help."
"...Me?" Prompto tilted his head in confusion.
"You," the man nodded, pointing a finger at him with a sinister smirk on his face.
"Then…" Prompto gulped. "What do you want me to do?"
"You're bait," the man emphasized the last word. "You're bait for that boyfriend of yours."
Prompto blinked, now even more confused. Boyfriend? He didn't have a boyfriend. Did they grab the wrong person?
"I… don't have a boyfriend," Prompto tried to correct them, shaking his head.
The men guffawed, as if Prompto had told them a joke that was hilarious to them. Once the laughter died down, the leader shook his head.
"So you and the Prince's Shield aren't dating? Yeah right!" He laughed.
Prompto's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widened upon hearing "the Prince's Shield". Nervous sweat beaded down his forehead.
Gladio.
"What did Gladio do to you?" Prompto asked, his entire body shaking from the cold and fear—his coat didn't help with the freezing air. This was a trap for Gladio.
"You see this?" The leader pointed at a scar that was over his right eye—eerily similar to Gladio's scar. Prompto shuddered at that realization. "He did this to me! I didn't do anything wrong and he destroyed my life!" The man's eyes nearly bulged out of his sockets, his breathing heavier and heavier. His face slowly grew red as he continued. "I'll make sure he'll pay for this. And I'll start by hurting you."
Prompto wanted to scoot away from the man, but thanks to being bound, all he could do was shake and whimper in fright. He's after Gladio.
"Y-you clearly did something wrong!" Prompto tried to protest, knowing that it would do no good. But he had to try. "Gladio doesn't just attack someone willy-nilly! You did something that—"
He was rewarded with a backhand across the face, and Prompto yelped in shock and pain. A small bruise began to form on his cheek from the impact, and tears began to form in his eyes. He held them back, however; he wasn't going to cry in front of these men. He had to stay strong. For Gladio.
"Why don't you just shut up," the leader growled, pulling out his gun. He placed the gun to Prompto's side of his head, his finger on the trigger—one flick of his finger, and Prompto was dead. The blonde froze, his heart beating wildly against his chest. Tears threatened to fall, as he whimpered in fright.
"Please," Prompto begged. "Please don't do this."
"Too late now," the man sneered, pulling out his cell phone. Before Prompto could react, the man took a photo of Prompto's terrified state. As the man began to text the message to Gladio, Prompto's head was filled with worries, with fear. Oh God, they were going to send that to Gladio. What would Gladio think? What if he rushed in without thinking and he ended up getting himself killed?
Because of him, Gladio would be dead by these monsters. This was all Prompto's fault. All his fault.
Those thoughts were what did him in. Prompto sniffled, tears finally falling as he let out a sob. No. Not Gladio. Please not Gladio.
"Ohohoho," the man taunted. "Go ahead and cry, boy. Make Gladio come and save you faster!"
"Gladio!"
Gladio stopped his daily training and turned, raising a brow upon seeing the prince himself running towards him. Noctis didn't usually come by unless something had happened. Did something indeed happen?
What he had noticed, however, was the lack of Prompto with Noctis. The blonde was always with the prince; where did he go?
Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Prompto all day. Whatever the "happened" was, it likely involved him.
"What's up, Noct?" Gladio asked, placing his greatsword to the side.
"Have you…" Noctis said, trying to catch his breath from running. After a few seconds, he continued, "have you seen Prompto?"
"No," Gladio shook his head. Worry filled his mind. If Noctis didn't know where Prompto was, something was off. "I haven't seen him all day. Why?"
"I was at Esterway Park," Noctis said, "and I came across this." He dug through his coat pocket, and pulled out a cell phone. Prompto's cell phone, in fact, judging by the Chocobo stickers on the back.
"What…" Gladio said. He took the phone from Noctis, scanning its condition. The screen was shattered, rendering it unusable as Gladio tried to turn it on to no avail.
If his cell phone was here, then Prompto—
No. There was no way something happened to Prompto. He was out sick. Yes. That was it—
His thoughts were interrupted when he felt his own phone going off. Handing Prompto's phone back to Noctis, he took out his phone and swiped the screen a few times.
There was a text message from an unknown number with an attachment. Gladio's eyebrows furrowed, humming in confusion. What was this?
When he tapped on the message, his heart nearly stopped upon seeing what the attachment was. His eyes widened and his stomach turned.
It was Prompto, in near tears and with a bruise on his cheek. A gun was pointed at the side of his head, threatening Prompto's life. Prompto's eyes were wide, as if begging Gladio to help him.
Under it was a sinister message:
We have Prompto. Come to the Esterway warehouse alone, or else say goodbye to poor, little Prom.
Gladio gritted his teeth, his large hand nearly crushing his phone in anger. Someone took Prompto. He wasn't sure who, but they took him.
And it was all his fault. If I had known—
"Uh, Gladio?"
Gladio was so focused on his anger and guilt filled thoughts that he forgot that Noctis was there. The prince tilted his head, an eyebrow raised. Thankfully, Noctis didn't see the picture or the message.
He shouldn't see it anyway.
"Noct," Gladio began, barely containing the rage in his voice. He picked up his greatsword before he continued, "I need to go. I'll be back."
He didn't give Noctis a chance to respond, as he stormed off to the Esterway warehouse. He didn't want the prince to come with him; it would mean disaster. He had to do this alone for Prompto.
Hold on, Prompto.
"Please," Prompto whimpered after the leader was done sending his message. He tugged at his restraints as he begged, "Don't do this. This will only make it worse."
"Would you shut up already?!" The leader growled. Without warning, he backhanded Prompto again, this time on his other cheek. A bruise formed on that cheek from the impact, and Prompto merely cried. "Gladdy is on his way. Once he shows up…" he showed Prompto his gun before cocking it, and Prompto's heart dropped. They're going to kill Gladio. "He'll be dead meat."
"G-Gladio is stronger than you guys," Prompto hiccupped. "He'll take you all on." That was all a bluff, unfortunately; he knew that Gladio was outnumbered. When he stepped foot in this warehouse, Gladio would be…
"He's coming," one man, who was looking through the window, called to his comrades.
Prompto's heart stopped. No. Please no.
The leader grinned, his grin so haunting Prompto shivered. "Heh, that was quick," he chuckled. He pulled out something from behind him that Prompto couldn't see. That was, until he heard the familiar rip of duct tape.
"No," Prompto begged, shaking his head. His tears stained his injured cheeks as he continued, "Please don't. Please."
The leader didn't listen to Prompto's frantic pleading; he ripped off a piece of the duct tape before he placed it across the blonde's mouth, smoothing it for better effect and sadistic pleasure. Prompto's pleading was reduced to muffled whimpers, as he tried to beg through the gag to let him go, to leave Gladio alone.
"There we go," the leader laughed, ruffling Prompto's hair roughly. "Nice and quiet." He turned and Prompto could hear heavy footsteps outside. "Now be a good little hostage and stay put." With that, he stood back up and ran to his hiding place, his gun out and ready to shoot Gladio the moment he entered.
Prompto couldn't breathe, whether because of the tape or the fear, he wasn't sure. He sniffled and cried as he watched the other men take their places to ambush Gladio. This is all my fault. Because of me, Gladio is going to—
He couldn't let that happen. He had to do something.
He strained against his bonds, hoping for a break in the ropes. He struggled for a few minutes, to the point his wrists were cut by the rough twine, leaving a trail of blood running down from his injuries. He watched the door that Gladio would eventually go through. He begged, pleaded in his thoughts, as if Gladio would hear them and understand.
Stay away Gladio! Please stay away! They'll kill you!
He arrived within minutes. The warehouse hadn't been used in decades; the roof was full of holes, rats scurried from inside the warehouse, bits and pieces of wood falling from the slightest breeze.
Gladio growled in anger, his fists clenched. His breathing was heavy due to his anger rising. Prompto was inside with his captors, likely tortured and hurt. All because of him. If he had done something, then none of this would have happened. Prompto would have been safe now if he was paying more attention.
He would have called Ignis for backup, but he knew better; if Ignis joined him in this rescue mission, Prompto would be dead. He was on his own.
He shook his head, before he walked towards the door.
This was likely a trap. Whoever took Prompto, they had some beef against the Prince's Shield, and they were using Prompto as a hostage to get to him.
I should have protected him.
He placed his hand on the doorknob, his other hand never leaving the hilt of his greatsword. He tried to sweep away the thoughts of how it was all his doing, how Prompto was hurt because of him. Thoughts of regret and guilt wouldn't work here. He had to focus. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to save Prompto.
With a deep breath, he opened the door.
In the back of the warehouse was Prompto, tied to a pipe. A strip of tape was placed over his mouth, likely to prevent him from warning Gladio where his attackers were. What broke Gladio's heart, however, was the tear stains on his bruised cheeks. He had been crying, obviously frightened from his ordeal. An ordeal that Gladio had caused.
"Prompto," Gladio called, and without another thought, rushed over to his friend.
Prompto's head turned to Gladio upon hearing his familiar deep voice, and his eyes widened upon seeing his savior. He screamed through the tape, shaking his head frantically in order to warn him. He pointed with his fingers to show, to no avail, Gladio where his captors were hiding. This wasn't happening. Gladio was here, and he was running straight into a trap. To his death.
Gladio knelt down to Prompto when he was close enough. With a gentle hand, he cupped Prompto's cheek to keep his head still. Their eyes met, with Prompto's eyes pleading to Gladio to run as far away as possible.
"I'm here Prom," Gladio soothed, gently ripping the tape from Prompto's mouth. "I got you. You're gonna be okay."
As soon as the tape was removed, Prompto sputtered in panic, "Gladio, leave, please leave, it's a trap, they'll—they'll kill you."
"I know," Gladio acknowledged, nodding. He heard shuffling behind him. "I'll get you out of this in a minute, okay?"
He turned, seeing the men with their guns out, ready to shoot down Gladio if he even moved a muscle. Gladio paused, not because of the guns pointing at him, but to identify who these bastards were.
"Finally decided to join us, Gladdy?" The leader chuckled, his gun pointed straight at Gladio's head.
"Kyle." Gladio growled. He recognized who this man was—he was a serial killer who had murdered men for easy money. He had brought him to justice when he had threatened Noctis' life several years ago. And now here he was, holding Prompto hostage just to get to him.
"You're too much of a pussy, Kyle," Gladio began. "Instead of taking me one-on-one, you took someone I care about and lured me out here. How low can you go?"
"As low as I need to until you're dead," Kyle said, his gun steady at Gladio's head. "Now, here's the deal; drop your greatsword and kick it here."
Gladio glanced at his weapon, then at the man who took Prompto. His Prompto. He weighed his options in his head—if he did what he was told, that was it for him. But if he didn't, they would shoot him dead, and then they would kill Prompto. Should he just fight back?
No. Too dangerous. Then what should he do?
"Gladio!" Prompto cried. "Don't! He'll kill you if you do it!"
"Well?" Kyle asked impatiently. "Are you gonna do as I say or not? Don't you want to save poor Prompto?"
Almost immediately, Gladio took out his greatsword and dropped it on the floor; it let out a clattering sound that echoed throughout the warehouse. With enough force, he kicked his weapon towards Kyle. The whole time, he had a glare on his face, as if doing so would kill Kyle on the spot.
"GLADIO!" Prompto screamed, tears falling down in full force. Why was this happening? Gladio shouldn't have done that; now they were both doomed.
"You got me," Gladio growled, "let Prom go. This is only between us, Kyle."
"Oh, but you're wrong, Gladdy," Kyle chuckled, stepping over the greatsword to approach him.
First mistake.
"Prompto has everything to do with us. Especially you. I saw how much you care for the little shit."
Soon enough, Kyle was in front of him.
Second mistake.
"Once I take care of you personally, Prompto is next."
Third mistake. And that was the last straw that broke the camel's back for Gladio.
Without a single second wasted, Gladio sucker punched Kyle in the face, and Kyle was down for the count. At least, for a minute. This was his chance, and he took it quickly.
The three other men stood in shock for a second, before they pointed their guns at the large man. They all pulled the trigger at the same time, and bullets began to fly. Gladio, however, ducked and rolled to his greatsword, before snatching it from the ground. Once the hail of bullets stopped, he stood up, his grip tight on his preferred weapon and his teeth gritting.
No words had been spoken as Gladio charged at the men, cutting them down one by one. Prompto looked away, not wanting to see the bloody carnage that Gladio caused. Thank goodness he was on his side.
Once the three men were down for good, Gladio turned to the fallen Kyle. Kyle sat up from the sudden punch, wiping off the dripping blood from his nose. Upon seeing the behemoth of a man approaching him, he scrambled to his feet, grabbing his gun along the way. He glanced at his gun, then at Gladio. Then finally, at Prompto.
Gladio knew what he was thinking, and he charged towards the man.
Kyle turned and rushed towards Prompto, his gun ready to either shoot him to death, or hold him hostage to keep Gladio at bay.
No no no! Stay away from me! Prompto thought frantically, shaking his head, as if that would deter Kyle from doing what he was planning.
Kyle never got to get at least another inch towards Prompto, as Gladio took him via chokehold. He growled, squeezing the man's neck with his arm.
"You took someone precious to me," Gladio said, "and you're dead to me, pal."
Just as when Gladio moved his arm, Prompto looked away. All he could hear was the sickening icrunch/i of Kyle's neck being broken by full force. Prompto shivered, whimpering in fear as the deafening silence surrounded him.
"Prom."
Prompto looked up, seeing Gladio—his savior—kneeling down to him. Gladio smiled in order to comfort Prompto, to let him know that everything was all right. But Prompto also noticed a hint of guilt in his eyes.
Gladio gently untied the ropes around Prompto's legs, before reaching to free his wrists. Neither of them spoke—what should they even say?
"You all right? They didn't hurt you too bad, right?" Gladio asked.
Prompto shook his head, rubbing his bloody wrists. He looked away from Gladio's gaze, only to spot the dead bodies that were scattered on the floor. He flinched, bile rising in his throat. He wasn't sure if that was from his nerves or the fact that he saw the dead, broken bodies of his captors.
"Prom," Gladio coaxed gently. "Don't look at that. Look at me."
Prompto did as he was told, and glanced towards Gladio. Their eyes met, guilty amber to worried blue.
"I-I—"
"Shh," Gladio hushed him gently. "It's all right. They won't hurt you ever again."
"Th-they were gonna kill you," Prompto whimpered. "They were using me to kill you, and—and—"
"I know," Gladio acknowledged, helping up the blonde. Prompto's feet were unsteady thanks to being bound for hours, and he nearly fell over. Gladio, however, grabbed him and held him close to his chest. "I got you. We're both safe."
Silence reigned around the warehouse, with the two hugging each other. Only Prompto's sniffling was heard, as he tightened his hold around Gladio; if he let go, Prompto was afraid he would be ripped away from the other man.
After a while, Gladio pulled away, his large hands on Prompto's shoulders. "C'mon, we need to get you some medical attention."
Prompto nodded at this. While it took a moment thanks to Prompto's unsteady feet, the two left the Esterway warehouse in each other's arms.
Prompto only needed bandages for his wrists, thankfully. During his brief stay in the hospital, Prompto was only shaken up from the ordeal he had gone through, according to the nurses caring for him. Other than those, he wasn't seriously hurt to the point he needed urgent care. After a few hours, he was released from the confines of the hospital. When he entered the waiting room, his friends were there, waiting.
Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio.
"Prom!" Noctis gasped, quickly standing up from his seat. In a quick motion, he tackled Prompto into a hug. Prompto simply chuckled, holding his best friend back. "Oh thank God. When Gladio told me what happened, I-I…"
Prompto shook his head. "Hey, I'm fine. Just a few injuries and all."
Ignis also stood, and approached the two. To both of their surprise, Ignis joined in on the hug. He said nothing; words were unnecessary at this point.
Gladio was next. He stood up and joined as well, this time giving them all his famous bear hug. The four stood there for a minute, simply taking in each other's missed company.
"You had us worried," Ignis finally broke the silence. "Forgive me, Prompto. If I had known—"
"It's not your fault, Iggy," Prompto interrupted. "Don't say such things."
It's definitely my fault, Gladio wanted to add, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to worry all three of them if he said that, especially Prompto. The kid went through enough for today.
Poor kid. If he wasn't an idiot, he wouldn't be in the hospital in the first place.
"All right, all right, guys," Prompto said. "That's enough hugging right now."
One by one, they released Prompto, although Gladio lingered for a few more seconds. He wanted to hold him longer, but obeying Prompto's request, he released his hold.
Prompto seemed to have noticed the reluctance, however. With a small frown, he turned to Noctis and Ignis. "Hey guys? Can big guy and I have a moment alone?"
Ignis and Noctis turned to each other for a second, both of their eyebrows raised. What was going on? They wanted to ask, but they felt it would be better off letting them talk alone.
Ignis nodded in agreement. "Yes, of course. Noct?"
"Y-yeah," Noctis agreed.
When the two went outside, Prompto hesitated for a second. His and Gladio's eyes met for a moment, before Prompto looked away. What should he say?
"Hey… about what happened," Prompto began. "I—"
"Don't blame yourself."
Prompto stopped, his mouth opened.
"None of that is your fault," Gladio continued. "I'm the one who should be sorry. If I wasn't such a dumbass, I would have kept you safe. Kyle wouldn't have hurt you if I had been paying more attention."
"Gladio," Prompto shook his head. "Don't say such things. You didn't know. Neither of us knew. If anything, that Kyle guy was the one who caused this whole thing."
"Prom…" Gladio trailed off. His mind tried to register what Prompto had said. Yes, it was true that Kyle had caused this whole situation, but it didn't stop his guilt. Prompto was still hurt because of him. Because of his foolishness.
Before Prompto could say anything, Gladio took his wrists gently. He glanced over the bandages, his guilt growing bigger when he saw the blood seeping through.
"Big guy," Prompto began, a blush creeping up on his face. He took his wrists away before taking Gladio's hands. Now Gladio was the one blushing upon the touch. Prompto himself didn't stop blushing, however. "Please. Don't blame yourself. We're both okay. We're both alive. And you even saved me. That's what matters, okay?"
Gladio sighed, the guilt slowly going away. He was right; both of them were alive and well. Kyle was dead, and he would never harm them again. Things were well.
"...All right." Gladio finally agreed.
The two stayed silent for a moment, their hands intertwined. Prompto's mind drifted to something else; his crush on Gladio. During the whole incident, Prompto thought that he would never tell him how he felt. What if something like that happened again? What if Prompto never told him and he ended up killed before he could tell Gladio?
But the worst of it all was; what if confessing broke their friendship?
He had to be brave. Yes. He had to tell Gladio before it was too late. Even if it meant losing Gladio, he at least had that off of his chest.
He took a deep breath.
"Hey big guy?" Prompto asked.
"Yeah, blondie?"
"I know that this is out of the blue, but… I've been feeling… things."
"Hm?"
"Like, y'know… like I like someone? I mean, 'like like' someone?"
"...What?"
"You know, when your stomach has butterflies when you see a certain someone, how you—"
Gladio chuckled. "Are you saying you have a crush on me?"
Prompto's face turned a bright red. What? How did he know?
"It's quite obvious, blondie," Gladio laughed. "I saw how you act around me. I figured you have a crush on me. And…" Gladio released Prompto's hands before he cupped his face. "I like ya too."
Prompto's heart raced. His face flushed even redder at this confession. Gladio? Having a crush on iPrompto/i? It had to be a dream.
But it wasn't. This was all real. Gladio really did 'like like' him.
"Gladio…" Prompto gasped. "That. Is. Great!" Without warning, he jumped into Gladio's arms, both of them laughing—something they needed after what had happened.
"Love you, Prom."
"I love you too, big guy."
Since that day, not only would Gladio be Noctis' shield, but also Prompto's shield. The two remained by each other's side for the rest of their lives.
Constructive criticism is welcomed!
